


Won'tcha Throw Me a Bone?

by DarthSuki



Series: Suki's Guilty pleasure Reader Inserts [8]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Dirty Talk, F/M, Fluff, Love Confessions, Petplay, Possessive Behavior, Sexual Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-21
Updated: 2015-11-21
Packaged: 2018-05-02 17:17:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5256980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarthSuki/pseuds/DarthSuki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You only wanted to help Papyrus feel a little more confident by losing to him in a battle. That was the plan. However, actually getting locked in the garage wasn't really part of that plan, neither was being treated a little like a new puppy with all the toys Papyrus seemed to lay out for you in said garage. But...that's okay right? Sans would swing by and let you out--after all, he was the one who helped you to make that plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Won'tcha Throw Me a Bone?

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure if others will agree since this might be a writer-bias, but holy shit this oneshot feels pretty damn dirty. Like, the level of dirty I want all my oneshots to be when they contain smut. IT'S A BEAUTIFUL THING.
> 
> Un-Beta'd, and I'm trying something out for the first time. I'm gonna try to hold back on using the usual insets (y/n, e/c, ect) that I do in favor of trying to make it feel more immersive. Tell me if you guys prefer it this way!

You would be lying if you tried to say that you didn’t know how you got here. You’d be lying if you said you gave it your all during the fight against the tall, loud skeleton. 

And most importantly of all?

You’d be lying right through your teeth if you said that you wanted to win that battle in the first place. Though the plan hadn’t entirely gone as desired--losing was part of it, of course--the whole thing was simply to give the skeleton a little boost in confidence. Papyrus seemed to need it after all, seeing his forlorn expression, doubting himself until the end of the battle when you took it upon yourself to trip dramatically into one of his attacks. Oh, did he look proud of himself--so much that all of your troubles in faking your failure was actually worth it. 

Though being tossed into the garage might have been pushing the satisfaction a little bit.

The building wasn’t too tiny--it was spacious enough to hold a car or two, though you couldn’t recall seeing a single vehicle in the underground before. Everyone either traveled on foot or by magic, so you figured that the garage itself was, like a lot of things underground, just another mystery of logic. That wasn’t the most confusing thing, though. 

You didn’t understand why there were so many dog supplies laying around. There was a bed, a food bowl, squeaky toys…? You don’t recall knowing either of the skeleton brother’s having a dog--in fact, you remember Papyrus being very passionate about his hatred whenever one of the strays tried to gnaw one of his bone attacks. You could recall a little bit about Sans telling you he had a pet rock (and Papyrus angrily explaining he barely took care of it). But if they didn’t own a dog, why did so many supplies litter the floor?

They were clean, perhaps even brand new--where they for you?

It was hard to tell how long you had been out after your purposed fall in battle. But obviously, it had been long enough for Papyrus to purchase, or at least set out, the several items your eyes found when you took in the scene around you. 

A small bed fit in one of the corners of the room, and beside that there sat a small bowl of water and food. Settled around the bed and dishes were several scattered toys, as if Papyrus had set them out in a specific order. A couple rawhide bones, rope toys, and various other items you only glossed over in observation. 

With careful movements, you stepped over the various toys and past the bed to explore more of the building. There was a gates separating the main section of the garage from the hallway leading to the door. The bars were far enough apart that it did little to keep you from slipping past, moving carefully into the front hall-like area where you found the door that would lead you back out to freedom.

It was bright outside--enough that the light seemed to glimmer through the frosted glass of the door looking outside. Of course, it was literally frosted, so you couldn’t see much more than some muddled colors in vague shapes that might have been trees and snow piles. You would have investigated to make sure there wasn’t anything else outside the door--but it was locked. No matter how much you tried to jiggle that doorknob, the door wasn’t opening. Not only was it locked from the inside--you were easily able to undo that--but it had also been locked on the outside. You don’t ever remember that being a thing in the couple times you tried getting into the garage before.

That….was also not part of the plan. Panic started to settle deep in your chest as you went over the implications that came with being locked inside a garage. The possibility that you wouldn’t be able to find a way out; and what then? What did it mean for you to stay in the garage? Would Papyrus come to check up on you? Or was it an attempt of a holding cell, where you’d literally be waiting to be taken by his superior. Ugh, too much stress, too many possibilities.

Despite all the negative thoughts rolling around your mind, you backed away from the door and took in a deep, slow breath. There was always a way out of things. Sans was probably going to be the one to bail you out, you knew it--he was a pretty good sorta guy, despite how lazy could come off as. Reliable guy in an odd way. But you had a feeling he’d come to get you out, though you weren’t about to hold your breath waiting for him. 

You decided to move back into the main room. The toys don’t get any of your attention though, since you instead decide to attempt to take a nap on the dog bed instead. It’s not….too small. You have to pull in your limbs a bit to fit inside, but it’s not all that uncomfortable to actually sleep in--you only wished you had a blanket.

Sleep comes surprisingly quick for you, all things considered, waiting for the moment that it would be Sans waking you up to poke fun at you and explain how he unlocked the door. Maybe it would even be Papyrus, feeling bad for locking you up and ultimately deciding to let you go. 

There was still light outside the windows when you woke up. It hurt your drowsy eyes at first, making you blink as you came out of the stupor of a dreamless sleep. Your position and the bed beneath you caused a quick flurry of confused thoughts, wondering why you weren’t in a regular bed in a warm room. Reminders and memories came quickly as you shifted, helping you realize where you were again. It took a few seconds more to recall why you were there.

You stared out one of the closest, frosted windows. Like the door, you couldn’t make out more than general blobs of color, leaving you to wonder if you’d simply woken up naturally, or if there was someone outside trying to get in, and the noise had woken you. 

There was nothing but silence. You shifted again, this time trying to get onto your feet, but something stopped you from moving.

You weren’t alone anymore in the room.

The shock didn’t last more than a moment, freezing your body completely still as your brain took the time to filter through all the possibilities that shadowy shape could be as the details came closer into focus. Short, wearing a thick jacket with his hands stuffed lazily into the pockets. 

Sans.

A breath of relief fell from your lips as the pounding of your heart started to settle down. Him coming in was probably what woke you. And he was there at last to free you, maybe tease you a bit on how you never considered that the garage might be locked. 

But your relief didn’t last for very long. The air felt off. You couldn’t help but remain silent as your eyes peered up at the skeleton standing a few feet away, meeting your gaze with his own soft, white orbs. He didn’t say anything, and that silence only made the off feeling worse. 

The smirk on his face only twitched wider when he started to speak--his voice sounded a few tones lower than normal. “...heh. I always tell Pap not t’pick up strays,” He rumbled, making you blink in confusion--was he talking to you? Or...was he just making a general statement? But the skeleton didn’t seem to care about your lack of understanding, and merely continued on with a shrug. He chuckled. “Does he ever listen t’me? Nah. For all he seems to hate dogs, he sure loves ‘em sometimes.” 

Your eyes stare at him. What the hell was he talking about? Just as you’re about to open your mouth and ask him just that Sans takes a step closer to you. He doesn’t say anything, but the movement is so quick, so sharp--its enough to startle you back into silence while your brain tries to make sense of it all. 

He pulls a hand out of his pocket, holding something that at first didn’t make any sense. He held a dark blue leash, wound around his wrist and ending in a collar, evident enough with how he held it up for you to see. The collar itself was decorated in soft, probably fake jewels and--

Holy fuck, he was actually holding a leash and collar. For a dog.

“Never been much of a dog person m’self either, but yanno, everyone loves puppies.” Sans started to unwrap the leash from around his hand, holding the end in one and the collar in the other, so you could see the way the light hit each of the small aqua-looking jewels lining around the outside edge.

That was when it all finally started to click into place--that he wasn’t talking to you, he was talking about you. For some reason, that weirded you out enough that your heart started to kick up again, beating within your chest like a drum. He took another step closer, and you pressed yourself backwards. It wasn’t until you’re pressed against the wall that he spoke again, his eyes looking you over in a slow, methodical way. You were too shocked to speak, but Sans seemed plenty happy enough to fill the silence himself.

He reached out his hand holding the leash, as if coaxing you to take it from him. However, when you started to reach your hand up to take it (which made you even more confused), the skeleton’s expression shifted into annoyance and he pulled it away. 

“No,” He said shortly, before reaching out again with the red leather leash. “....a puppy’s gotta smell it first right? Make sure it smells like their master.” Confusion ran rampant, but at least you understood enough that you could pick up on….something. “Puppies don't pick things with their paws either.” With his gentle and oddly subtle insistence, you lean your body forward, just enough so your face was a few inches away from the leash. Sans’ smile was honest again as he watched you move, and watched you try to be as dog-like in sniffing at the item in his hand.

It smelled of leather, earthen and new--like he’d just gotten it from a pet store. And you’re not sure what makes your heart beat harder. The fact that Sans was there with a leash and collar, acting as if you were a new puppy he’d just found, or that he needed to have planned for that to happen. He knew you were going to get locked in the garage, that Papyrus was going to set out dog toys for you. 

Shit--was this supposed to be some way to humiliate you? Some huge joke that would end in the whole town laughing? No--though a man of humor and jokes, you knew very well that Sans wasn’t cruel. He’d never do something like that. But it didn’t dismiss how he was talking and acting towards you, which by itself was the strangest thing you’d seen in the underground so far. 

He seemed pleased when you listened to his subtle instructions, and pulled his hand back so he could start fiddling with the collar. He unclipped it from the leash, then let you watch as he undid the straps to open it up. 

It made your heart pound when he beckoned for you again, this time to draw closer with one hand patting at his leg. “C’mere, you pretty lil’ thing,” Sans whispered, the glow in his eyes flicking blue for a few moments. “Can’t have you runnin’ around without a collar on.” 

You didn’t try to stand up to move closer to him--his game was subtle, but once you got an idea of what he was playing, the pieces were quick to come together. It didn’t help that you could feel your cheeks flushing a bright red, the display almost shameless as you gave into that little voice deep inside your head. The one that said how little you minded this….activity. How little you cared that Sans was treating you like a dog. For some odd, freakish reason, it all excited you.

You crawled towards the skeleton cautiously, sitting back on your knees and looking up at him with that same flush on your cheeks. Damn. You couldn’t hide it either--the way you sat up, face tilted back just enough to expose your neck. That wasn’t the way any normal person reacted to the situation of being locked in a garage and not-really-saved by a being they’d expected simply to let them out. A being holding a collar, calling them a puppy.

A being that had captured more than your attention since the moment you met them. A skeleton that, for whatever reason that fate decided it should be, held your affections and attraction in more ways than one.

Call it sick, twisted, or vile, but you were enjoying how he was treating you. So much that your actions were almost unconscious, your need visible in the eagerness of your movements.

Maybe that was the plan.

The look in Sans’ eyes was hard to read. It wasn't a look of cruel humor, but instead it was heavy and soul-searching, like every moment both your eyes’ met were moments that he was trying to read your thoughts--and you made it all too easy for him to pick them all up.

Putting on the collar was quick, with smooth, bones fingers skimming around your neck to secure the leather without making it uncomfortably tight. But it pressed against your skin, quickly shifting to meet the temperature of your skin. It wasn't a cheap collar either--the leather felt supple, carefully worked. 

How long had Sans carried this idea in his head? How had he even known that you wouldn’t shove him away and never speak to him again, think him a freak or worse?

“There ya go…” He hummed, tracing his fingertips around the collar, where the leather pressed to your skin. “That looks pretty damn good on ya, pup. Blue really is your color…” The grin on his face is equal parts amused and predatory, making you shiver in how strongly his glowing eyes felt on you. But it wasn’t disliked--the attention was so unique that you couldn’t help but enjoy it, even if you weren’t exactly being treated like a human.

Your eyes fall to the floor after a few moments, feeling a little awkward to continue meeting Sans’ gaze. So does your face, staring down at the ground in the few moments it takes the skeleton to clip the leash to the collar. He rubs a hand over your head, enough that you push up into the touch, those gentle fingers scratching at your scalp. 

“So pretty,” He whispered, falling to one knee in front of you, meeting the level of your eyes once more after he moved his hand to pull your chin back up again. “....But Pap’s a silly brother, ain’t he? Puppies don’t wear clothes.” His words were so casual that it took you a moment to catch up to the fact that his hands were pulling your clothes off, one piece at a time. He pulled down the zipper of your jacket and pushed it over your shoulders, started undoing your pants and pulling up your shirt and--

His hands were underneath your shirt, scratching at your skin in gentle and exploratory motions that pulled a gasp from your lips. Sans’ smile got wider, just a subtle twitch that nevertheless made your heart skip to see, to know that he was completely in control and conscious of everything he was doing to you and your body. 

It wasn’t hard to pull off your shirt, and even less difficult to remove your bra. Sans’ motions were so fluid and graceful, you didn’t even realize your nakedness until a breeze of cool air caressed against your skin. It made you shiver for a moment, but Sans was there again, pressing his hands down your shoulders and sides until his thumbs hooked into the hem of your pants.

“Must be some sorta purebred huh?” He asked, knowing fully well that you wouldn’t (rather, couldn’t) respond to the question. He was considerate though in that odd, rather impromptu situation, subtly making rules to follow as he went. “With skin that soft and eyes that bright--can’t b’lieve someone would leave you out in the cold, eh pup?” 

He looked at you as he carefully began to push your pants down, finally stopping when they peeled over your hips. Oh.

He wanted a response. But….you couldn’t speak so….?

“Y’gonna say somethin, pup?” He purred, not even bothering to hide how his eye glowed blue as bright as the jewels on your collar. “Maybe eh, howl a lil bit? C’mon, you can bark. Bark for me.”

What came out of your mouth wasn’t a bark. Not even by some longshot, some logic-pulling or shrug of the shoulders. The noise was softer, smoother, and it resonated in your throat, influenced by the growing heat of your body and the need for the warmth that Sans offered. 

The skeleton didn’t seem to expect the whimper. Because when he heard it he froze, staring at you almost blankly for a few moments before seeming to remember what he was doing--this time with an even more mischievous-looking grin on his features. 

 

He started pushing down your pants again, but started nuzzling at the side of your face at the same time. “Such a good girl aren’tcha?” Sans whispered into your ear. Hot breath brushed against the side of your face, though it was already warmed by the fervent blush that came in response to his eager digits. 

The pants went down as far as your knees, and it only meant that you had to move to get them the rest of the way off. And instead of being a passive body to Sans’ desires, you took the initiative and flopped onto the floor, belly-up so he could pull your pants down the rest of the way.

It was starting to feel a little easier now to give into what you assumed Sans wanted you to do--though it didn’t stop the hard, harsh beating of your heart or the thick blush over your cheeks. But maybe that was something more that he liked?

You made the noise again--softer and further drawn--as he left you nearly naked. The only thing that remained clinging to your skin were only your panties, and they were quickly removed as well by the skeleton’s quick, gentle fingers and tossed aside with as little care as your pants.

So there you lay, naked but for a blue leather collar around your neck, clipped to a leash that Sans held tight in one of his hands. He looked down at you from between your soft thighs, one eye glowing so bright that you might have mistaken it for a flame within his skull. His hands, having no other article of clothing to pull off of your body and with no other excuse to do so casually within the roleplay situation, simply settled on either side of your hips. His touch was burning hot--almost literally. The bone of his hands felt hot, enough that it almost unsettled you a bit.

Enough that you shifted, wiggling a bit on the ground with your hands gently reaching out and laying over his own. It took you a moment and a curious look from the skeleton above you to realize your fault, and instead of simply pressing your palms over his hands, you started gently pulling at them, trying to mime a pawing motion in a way before he could scorn you again.

Eventually he seemed to get some of the message, and slowly moved his hands from your hips up instead against your stomach. A little sigh of satisfaction came from your lips as the heat moved against your skin, a condensed little bundle of warmth that made you wiggle a bit more to sit up, as if you could try to huddle yourself around it.

“What’s makin’ you so wiggly?” Sans finally asked, his voice soft yet low, level-toned from his normal, lazy lilt. You didn’t respond with anything more than another sigh, pawing playfully at his hands again.

Damn, you were starting to get into it. Something about the way Sans was so gentle with you, how he didn’t make you feel embarrassed for going along with things, for being naked in front of him. You knew he planned it, and if he did that….it only meant that your crush was at least vaguely mutual.

“My lil’ pup ain’t actin’ strange cause she’s gettin’ ansty, right?” As innocent as the question might have seemed on a surface-level, it carried a far heavier, hotter meaning when the skeleton leaned his face into your neck again, letting his words and breath almost vibrate against your skin. His hands weren’t on your stomach anymore either--they pressed up higher, gently groping and grabbing until he had either of your breasts pressed into his warm palms. “Hmm….think I read somethin’ about this in one of those old books at the library. Almost sounds to me like my lil’ pup’s goin’ into heat.” 

There was something about the way he said it, how his tone went dark and his smile curled wider against your skin--a shiver ran down your body in undeniable arousal. It was such a primal way to put it, and your body certainly didn’t mind it at all. In fact, your legs spread apart a bit wider, almost trying to coax his hips closer against you, just for a little bit of pressure against your core. You didn’t realize how wet his words and actions had already made you until he pressed forward, giving into your subtle, needy movements and the hard pubic bone of his pelvis pressed against you. 

Fuck.

A high whimper hissed through the air as a shiver of pleasure shook your frame. Sans laughed--heartily, deeply--peering at your face with an expression that was absolutely awed. Awed and entirely, completely, almost possessively aroused in kind.

“My poor thing,” He murmured, groping you a little bit harder, almost to the point that it hurt. He backed off before it did though, letting you lay back on the smooth floor while he adjusted himself between your thighs. “Goin’ through a heat and nobody t’take care of ya’? Ain’t that a shame, pup--but don’tcha worry--that’s what a master’s for. Don’t want no other dog tryin’ to hurt’cha after all. I’m the only alpha dog allowed to do this.” 

He punctuated his sentence with a roll of his hips, pressing the hard jut of his pubic bone against where he knew your clit was--and that pressure was so good. It made pleasure bloom within you for a few moments, long enough for your body to writhe in a beautiful reply. A moan started to drip from your mouth, but instead of risking being scolded again, you did your best to mold the noise into another whimper. It only proved to exite Sans further, his hands whipping into a flurry of motion--rubbing all up and down your body, as if he had a physical need to map out every inch of your skin within his head. 

Every few seconds, his fingertips would touch a spot--your side, the curve at the bottom of your back, your thighs--that would bring out a louder moan than normal. He seemed quick to learn those spots, as he started hitting them more often, rubbing the hard bone of his digits against each one like some sort of conductor trying to make music out of the noises you made.

And hell, you made some beautiful music according to him. 

“Come on--come on pup, you can get a little louder than that,” San’s whispered, getting more and more daring with his fingers and words. “I’m here t’take care of ya--lemme see where ya need me.” WIth a light chuckle in the background of your thoughts from Sans, you gasped as his fingers grabbed and dug into the outside of both thighs. It wasn’t hard to put two and two together, so without much hesitation your legs spread open to reveal your soaking wet core to the skeleton’s deep, curious gaze.

The fire in his eyes seemed to burn twice as bright as he looked down at your shamefully wet cunt. Arousal felt thick in his words as he spoke, enough to make you shiver in more than just response to the cool air around you. “Looks like my lil pup needs t’be mated, huh?” He asked nobody in particular, knowing fully well the only answer you can (and did) give him was a long, almost howl-like moan. He laughed again, harder than before, and moved back to sit, leaving you without his hands on your skin. 

Though confusion flickered through you for a moment, it was quickly pushed away in favor of the instinctual logic that arousal seemed to provide instead. He was watching….waiting…..

It didn’t take long to realize what he was waiting for. 

With a shiver down your spine, you turn yourself over so you can lay on your stomach, trying not to think too much about the way that wettness is dripping down your inner thighs (or how Sans is aptly staring at you), and present yourself to him. Ass in the air and face down against the ground, you never expected that the position to make him react nearly as much as he did. Sans was on you without hesitation, fingers grabbing at your hips, grinding against your ass hard enough to make you realize that in the few seconds it took to turn yourself over he’d removed his shorts and had a cock--or his equivalent of one--rubbing between your cunt lips. God, that made you realize truly how wet you were--and made your thighs feel even messier than before.

“Good girl,” Sans praised without hesitation, grinding his hips in little circles and letting his dick tease against your entrance. God--he didn’t feel all too huge by normal standards, but he felt more than enough to sate the ache that was growing inside you. With some mixture of normal arousal and the mindset that the impromptu roleplay was instilling in your thoughts, the need for his cock was unlike any other need you held before. You wanted it to open you up, wanted Sans to claim you and make you feel like you were safe and warm and.

You whimpered out something that slightly sounded like his name. And just as quickly as the noise came from your lips, you felt a sharp, gentle yank on your neck from the collar--which was still connected to the leash Sans held.

“Bad girl,” Sans growled, leaning down against your neck, nipping at the nape between his chastising words. “Dogs don’t speak like people.” It was a brief scolding, but plenty enough to make the heat in your belly even hotter. Fuck. 

You whimpered, without a name that time, and tried to press your hips back. His cock was so close, just a little shift and he’d be able to slip inside your aching cunt so easily….

Sans didn’t let it. He moved with you, pressing back just a little bit whenever you tried to push--extremely frustrating in more ways than one. What did he want? You were already whimpering constantly, shame lost a while back--what more could the skeleton want of you when you couldn’t actually speak?

Sans didn’t say all that much to help either, leaving your body on fire and frustrated. you started to sob a little bit, begging him as much as you could with sounds alone before finally letting out a weak, thick little howl.

“So fucking cute,” was the only response that Sans gave you to indicate you did something right--and his hands shifted onto your hips more securely. They held you tight and still as he finally shifted so he could press the tip of his cock against your cunt. “Just whining and whimpering for my cock--cutest fucking thing. You probably want me t’fill you with pups or something don’tcha?” The skeleton laughed as he slowly pressed inside to stretch you over him inch by painstaking inch. It was pleasure and torture rolled into a ball of chaos.

But he was inside you. God, he was pressing inside you and filling you up--you scratched uselessly at the floor as you felt the fire in your belly grow hotter, needier for him when he finally was completely within your aching pussy. 

He growled, nearly snarled actually, when you clenched your muscles around his length. It just just to feel him more, to get an idea of how big he was--how perfectly he slotted inside like he perfectly belonged there, as cliche as it was. All the aching and need and want felt somewhat sated--

But you didn’t want him to sit there--you wanted him to fuck you. Hell, you wanted him to fuck you like you really were some poor thing in heat, needing nothing more than a solid dick to sate you. A low, strangle whimper was the best to communicate those wants, and Sans seemed more than understanding. He started moving without a word, his noises nothing more than low growls and rumbling within his empty, boney chest. 

It was perfect. Your nerves sang with the pleasure he offered, almost tingling against his dick as he started to gain some level of coherence. Eventually, after a few moments of solid, hard thrusting that almost seemed to push you completely onto your belly, you could hear the monster’s low voice growling beside your ear, and feel his hard, boney digits grasping needily at your hips as hard as his hip bones were with every thrust inside.

“Like th’feel of it? Yeah--it’s good, my cock, fuckin’ balls deep inside you. You want it all, babe, every inch inside you like a bitch in heat. But you’re--fuck--you’re my bitch in heat. I’m the only one allowed to pound this needy cunt.” Sans snarled and started thrusting harder, leaving your limbs shaking and your voice nothing more than whimpers even if you had the mind to form words. He pressed against your back, his heat and body almost smothering you as much as his words were, but the feeling of a bone jutting against your skin every so often was absolutely blissful and reminded you exactly of what Sans was--his inhuman nature spurring on even more heat within your belly. 

“If you ever need a fuck, you better be presenting that ass to me. I’ll make sure to fill you up all fuckin’ proper, babe. You’re gonna get addicted to milkin’ my dick when that pussy of yours needs something.” 

His thrusts got harder still, and it was obvious from the tension in his words and the constant twitching inside of you that he was close to orgasm. You were too, feeling that bright, white pleasure coming closer to the edge of your plateau of pleasure. It was pure bliss, nothing at all could contain your moans or the sound of Sans name anymore--and he didn’t really seem to care at that point.

It was just a symphony of growls, moans, and wet sounds of him fucking you. And when it all came together in those final moments of mindless ecstasy there was nothing in the world that could have stopped you from enjoying that perfect, crashing orgasm that sent nothing but shivers up and down your spine, a sudden and hard need to have his cock inside you as deep as it could go.

The skeleton didn’t fail to figure your needs as much as his own as he thrust one final time inside you, so hard that you were flush on the ground, hips to the floor and his cock so snug inside your cunt as it milked him in wave after wave of beautiful need. You could feel the heat of his own orgasm in kind, filling you up with some sort of liquid that logic didn’t even want to bother figuring out. He was just inside you, so hot, filling you up with whatever sort of monster jizz that made your cunt twitch and tingle in what you could only describe as the perfect afterglow.

Sans didn’t move as the pleasure between both of you started to fall, and neither did he pull himself out. The two of you lingered in silence, just enjoying the warmth, the intimacy of the moment as he laid against your back, and you feeling truly and completely claimed by the dominant skeleton upon you. 

The next minute or so was a little blurry, since exhaustion was quick to fill in where arousal once was. But it was nothing more than Sans moving off of you and gently pulling you into his lap and arms. It would have been uncomfortable to have his hip and leg bones jutting against your ass and thighs, but he thought enough to first pull the closest, softest item to his lap before he did you--the forgotten dog bed.

The way that Sans held you in his arms was nothing short of intimate. It made you smile and nuzzle against his chest, loving the way that his soft jacket felt against your cheek.

“.....So, that was fun,” You whispered all-too-casually, despite the fact that your body felt so perfectly, thoroughly wrecked. Sans hummed in his own gentle agreement.

“Didn’t know if you’d actually be into that sorta kinky stuff.” 

“Really?” You asked, a brow raised. “That was quite a risk then.” 

“Eh.” The aloof skeleton hummed again and shrugged his shoulders in his own seeming lack of care in the matter. “I knew ya had the hots for me. I’m not all that good with regular confessions and shit so uh….” 

“So…..” Your voice lingered for a few moments, leaving silence between the two of you to wonder what that was supposed to mean, and where you were supposed to go from there. “.....think we could...do this again sometime?”

Sans just laughed. He laughed hard and happy, his entire body seeming to rumble with the warm sound from deep within his empty chest. 

“Fuck yeah kid,” he said, leaning his face down against your own and nuzzling your cheek and mouth in his own attempt at a kiss. “It’s a date.”


End file.
